Father-Son Boxers
by GalaxieGurl
Summary: My entry into the Holiday Booth Boxer Rebellion fanfiction challenge.


Father-Son Boxers

 _A/N: This snippet is for the Boxer Rebellion challenge. It's a little AU for a necessary time warp, and not as titillating as some other submissions might be. Just a funny idea that popped into my head. I've been stuck on what to write for ecv's last Christmas story, so I'm following this inspiration in hopes that it will spark another for my Secret Santa buddy. It might also help to know that when I was little, my expert seamstress grandmother sometimes made matching Mother-Daughter outfits for my mom and me. It was a popular trend at one time, not so very long ago._

One of Booth's carefully-guarded secrets around his workplace was his fondness for holiday-themed skivvies. Sweets had become aware of this fact while folding laundry during his post-engagement-breakup sojourn with Booth and Brennan. A very embarrassed FBI agent chided his wife for carrying a newly-laundered stack of his colorful undies upstairs from their laundry room.

"Sweets doesn't need to be seeing my Captain America boxers!" he sputtered.

Unperturbed as usual, Brennan calmly assured her husband that their temporary roomer already had, since he had folded three loads of laundry for her that Saturday afternoon. Upon hearing this, Booth thundered up the stairs to Parker's room where Sweets was stretched out on the twin bed, reading a psychology journal.

"Not a word, do you hear me, Sweets? One man shouldn't be folding another guy's skivvies! I better not find out any of my agents or anyone else at the Hoover Building has any knowledge of my underwear choices, or I'll know where it came from, I'll come find you, and it won't be for lunch at the diner!"

Sweets assured his agitated friend that he had only wanted to help out, and would remain eternally mum about the contents of Booth's sock and underwear drawer.

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A few years had passed, Christine arrived, and Booth relaxed a little about his undergarments, as Brennan called them. He and Brennan gave their 3-year-old daughter a Christmas nightgown which heightened her holiday excitement and became a tradition on Dec. 6, St. Nicholas Day. Children love repeating things they enjoy, and when baby Hank arrived, Christine made sure she helped pick out his first Christmas onesie and blanket sleeper.

As Hank's third Christmas approached, Booth found himself in need of new holiday socks, and went to the mall the week before Thanksgiving to purchase some before Black Friday madness broke out. Sorting through pairs of socks festooned with candy canes, reindeers, tiny green trees, and holly sprigs, he was struck with an inspiration. Max had presented his daughter and granddaughter with matching red gingham aprons on the Fourth of July after they'd baked his favorite cookies for Father's Day, and Christine was delighted to have an apron 'just like Mommy's.' His wife and daughter had donned these the previous night to bake pumpkin bread and yeast rolls for their upcoming Thanksgiving dinner with the Hodgins family, Cam, Michelle, and the interns.

Booth broke into a huge smile, carried his sock selections to the cash register, and paid for his purchase. Slipping the Macy's bag over his arm, he headed for the boxer display and perused the choices. Then he took the store escalator to the childrens' clothing department, using the ride down to survey the merchandise below until he spotted the boys' underwear section. After a few moment's consideration, he picked up a package of Hanes briefs printed with Rudolph prancing about with his red nose glowing brightly, and another featuring smiling Christmas trees. The motherly sales clerk smiled indulgently at his choices.

"A gift for your little boy?" she asked. "How old is he?"

"Almost three years old," Booth responded proudly, swiping his credit card. "I call him Hank the Tank."

"Sounds like he's a lucky kiddo," she remarked.

"Nope, I'm the lucky one to be his dad," Booth assured her.

Riding the escalator back up, he returned to the mens' furnishings area and grabbed the reindeer and Christmas tree Jockey boxers he'd spotted earlier. The same helpful college student rang up his choices, and wished him a happy Thanksgiving, smiling at the tall man's whimsical nature. Booth grinned at him, took the third bag, and walked to his car, whistling merrily under his breath.

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Booth stopped at the bakery for donuts. He pulled into the driveway, exited his SUV, packages under his arm, took the front porch steps two at a time, and unlocked the front door. Once inside, he saw Hank and Christine watching Transformer cartoons. Normally disapproving of mindless cartoons, Brennan allowed this particular one for her children, since the matching toys provided manipulation practice and developed fine motor skills. Parker had introduced Christine to Transformers long ago, and she loved them as much as her brothers. Hank had an oversized Optimus Prime which was easy for little hands to maneuver, and begged his sister to play 'Formers' with him whenever he could.

"Daddy!" the pair chorused with glee.

"Are Optimus, Cliffjumper and Wheeljack beating the bad guys?" Booth asked.

"They sure are!" Christine replied.

"Hank, can you come with Daddy a minute? I want to show you something I found at the store," Booth told his son.

"Chrissy, we'll be back in a jiffy; just have some guy stuff to do," he assured his daughter. "Where's your mom? Will you please go tell her I'm home and take these donuts to the kitchen?"

Christine was mollified by the proffered treat, and scampered off to fulfill his request.

Booth hoisted Hank onto his shoulders and walked upstairs to his son's bedroom. He dumped the little boy in the middle of his bed, tickled his tummy, and handed him a Macy's sack.

"I found something fun for us at the store, Buddy. You open this bag and I'll open mine."

Hank pulled the bag open and peered inside. "Unda-wear?" he asked dubiously. "That's not fun, Daddy, that's just clothes," he said sadly.

Booth made a big production out of opening his bag and reached inside while giving Hank a mysterious look.

"What do you think mine is?" he asked.

"I dunno," Hank muttered, convinced his father had gone soft, if he thought underwear was exciting.

Booth pulled his boxers from the bag with great ceremony and laid them on the bed alongside Hank's so that the matching designs were side by side.

"See? They match, little dude, to quote your big brother Parker! You know how Grandpa Max gave Mommy and Chrissy the same aprons? Well, these are for daddies and sons! When we get dressed in the morning, our undies will match, and only we will know!"

"Can't I tell Mommy?" Hank asked.

"Of course, you can, kiddo, we tell Mommy everything, right?" Booth gave his son a bear hug, and Hank squeezed back happily.

"Yup, we do!" he agreed, giggling.

Brennan appeared in the doorway with a basket full of Hank's clean play clothes. "You'll be proud of Christine, Booth. She helped me fold Hank's t-shirts and socks. I'm rewarding her with a half hour of Elsa, Anna, and that ridiculous snowman."

"Hey, Bones, look what I found at Macy's," Booth chortled. "Father-son Christmas underwear! Reindeer and Christmas trees! Now Hank the Tank and his old man will match in the morning under our pants!"

Brennan rolled her eyes and smirked at her husband. "Booth, you might as well go watch cartoons with your children. You are the biggest kid I know," she said fondly as she kissed him.

"Your daddy is a nut, Hank, a goofy, silly nut!" she told her son, patting his head.

"Yup, a nut," Hank echoed happily.

"Bones, you suppose Pops would wear these if I could find them in his size? What about Max?" Booth wondered aloud. "Although Parker might not think this idea is as cool as Hanko here does," he conceded.

"You think, Booth? Parker would definitely think you've gone around the curve!" Brennan said wryly.

"Good one, Bones! But it's gone around the bend," the holiday boxer lover said affectionately.

"Whatever, Booth. Pops will certainly think you've lost your mind, and if Max hears about this, he'll tease you unmercifully!"

"Bones, he started it. Those aprons of yours and Chrissy's gave me the idea!"

"Ah, yes, our aprons. Perhaps your idea isn't so crazy, Booth. But don't go flashing people either," she warned him.

"Nope, none of that, for sure," he agreed.

"What's flashin'?" asked Hank.

"Need to know, kiddo, need to know," his father responded. "You want me to play Transformers with you for a bit?"

"Sure, Daddy!" and with that, Hank jumped off the bed and dove into his closet.

"An artful distraction, Booth, well done." Brennan murmured as Booth leaned in for a kiss.

"I try. And once in a great while, I manage," he replied as she kissed him back.


End file.
